


Still I Will If I Must! (JD x Suicidal!Murderess!Slighty_Psychotic!Reader)

by orphan_account



Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Autopsy reports, F/M, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of Virginity, Minor Character Death, NSFW, Past Character Death, Pre-Suicide Mission, Regret, Secrets, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, death anniversary, memories of murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 05:59:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11351322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Still I Will If I Must! (JD x Suicidal!Murderess!Slighty_Psychotic!Reader)

*JD's P.O.V.*

It'd been two hours since I found Veronica hanging from her ceiling fan. Oh well, at least I got to show off my grand scheme to her limp, dead body... At least, I think she was dead? That loose was awfully noose... Agh, damn it! That _noose_ was awfully _loose_... Nah, probably my imagination... Such a shame. She was one of my closest allies. I finished up with my bombs, and put them in my bag for tomorrow. As I laid down on my bed, I checked the time: 11:57 PM. I rolled over, facing the window that over looked the street. A very special house was across the road. It belonged to a girl, named (y/n). _She_ was _truly_  my closest ally. After Veronica broke up with me, I was out of control. Apparently I made such a racket that she crossed the street to see if everything was alright. My dad brought her in, pleading for her help. She calmed me down, somehow, and I ended up pouring everything out to her on accident... I began to think. "She could've turned me in... Could've had me locked up for triple homicide... Why didn't she call the police?"

Suddenly, a light turned on in a window that I knew far too well was a part of her room. "What is she doing?" I asked, sitting up in bed, and watching intently. Her silhouette passed by the window and an idea hit me: I can ask her to join me! I got up, got dressed, and snuck down stairs. My dad was drinking a beer at the bar in our kitchen. He was looking right at me. Shit. "Where are you going so late at night, Tiger?" I asked. He smiled, mischievously. "Oh, just somewhere quiet and sober." He said. I chuckled. My dad's actually pretty cool when it comes to our conversations. "If you're going to see a chick, make sure you wear a condom." "I will, Pop." He snickered. "Give her the ride of her life, Son." I grinned, before slipping out the door. Yep, gotta love Dad. I grabbed the latter from beside her window. She likes to leave it in a convenient place for me. She's very welcoming like that.

"Knock knock..." I said, crawling in through her window. "JD!" She said, jumping slightly, and turning around. Oh yeah, she probably wasn't expecting me. "What a... Pleasant surprise." She said, moving something behind her. I grinned at her, and she smiled back, shyly. "Sorry to come in through the window, Darling. Dreadful etiquette, I apologize." She 'hmph'ed, amusedly, leaning back against her desk. "Well? What are you waiting for? Come in, good sir!" "Maybe, I'm waiting for a little help getting my big ass through." I joked. Her smile kept on growing, as she rolled her eyes, playfully, and came over to pull me through. I pecked her forehead, and sneaked a look at what was on the desk. Her diary lay open to a blank page. Many others were ripped out from the book, and laid out in what seemed to be chronological order. A tiny key on a string was placed on the diary's page. A safe box was also on the desk. I wonder what's inside?

It seems that I've been staring at the sight for too long, because (y/n) pulled away to see what I was looking at. Her breath hitched and she turned us both, so that I was looking away from it. However, I simply let go of her and walked over to get a closer look. "Now, what's this strange set up about, Darling?" I asked, going behind the desk. "Nothing!" She said, far too quickly, and tried to pull me away from it all by the arm. I simply grabbed her by the waist, and kept us both there. "JD, _please_ , I don't want you looking at it." She covered my eyes and tried to pull me away again. She had more of an effect this time, so I found myself being pulled onto a soft surface. When her hands left my eyes, I found her hovering over me on her bed. I sat up and felt her pajama pants shift on my lap. She was straddling me as a method of keeping me away from her desk. How cute.

"Come now, baby girl. Since when are you one to keep secrets? Especially from _me_?" I said, cupping her cheek in my hand. She chewed her bottom lip. "I know you, JD. There's a reason you came here at this ungodly hour." "I also know _you_ , (y/n). There's a _damn_ good reason you're _up_ at this ungodly hour." I retorted. "Tell me what's on your desk, and I'll tell you why I'm here." She furrowed her eyebrows. "You tell me first." She demanded. "Fine, but you have to promise that you'll tell me about the stuff on your desk." She sighed, but promised anyway. "Alright, have you signed my petition yet?" I asked. She shook her head, no. "Which one _is_  your petition, JD?! I've been talking with the students who signed a petition, and the accounts of what the petition was about are totally incongruent! One girl even told me that the petition was to get a hot tub in the Caf!" She laughed. I smiled. "Well, good, because no matter what petition those assholes signed, it's mine. Do you want me to tell you what they really signed?" She nodded, curiously.

I pulled out the note which held my true petition. " _We, the students of Westerburg High, will die. Today. Our burning bodies will be the ultimate protest to a society that degrades us. Fuck you all!_  It's not very subtle, but then again, neither is blowing up a whole school." She blinked once. Twice. Three times. "When?" She asked. " _When?_ " I repeated. "Yes, when? When is this happening?" "Tomorrow, at the pep rally." She cursed under her breath, and hid her face behind her palm. I took her palm away from her face. "What's wrong, Darling?" I asked. She sighed, before getting up, and leading me over to her desk. She gathered up the pages and stacked them nicely. "Of all days, why did you have to choose _tomorrow_ to blow up the school?" She asked, setting the pages off to the side, opposite the safe box. "We have pep rallies every Friday. Can't you do it next week?" Her profile shot was facing me. She held the key up to be level with her eyes, and swayed it back and forth.

"Is something wrong with tomorrow in particular?" I asked. "... Yes and no." She sighed, taking the key and holding it close to her neck. "Tomorrow, is fine, I guess. However, Tomorrow (two years ago) is most certainly not." She grimaced at the key, before going to unlock the safe box with it. From inside, she pulled out a pistol. There was mix of anger and nostalgia on her face, as she studied the weapon in the light of her lamp. She placed it on the desk, beside the box. Then, she pulled out a Manila folder. She held it up to the light with a mix of heartache and self-loathing on her face, before flopping it down in the cent of her desk, just below her diary. Her eyebrows were knit together painfully, her eyes closed, and her lips bent down in a grief-stricken frown: The eppitomized look of contrite sadness, etched on the face of an angel. She chanced a final look in the box, to see something that made her breath hitch. She pulled out a page from her diary and, upon reading it's words, clenched her fists so that the paper was somewhat crumpled. Her hands started to shake and she trembled all over. I went to hug her, but held up a shaking hand to stop me. I did stop, not wanting to upset her more. She placed it down, delicately, once she'd stopped shaking and trembling. It was on top of the rest of the ripped out pages.

"September 13th, 1987." She said. "4:30 A.M. I write down a note to my maternal cousin, telling her where everything is in my room. I explain that I might not come back, so I'm leaving a note to my next of kin, which I'm so graciously giving _everything_ that is _inheritable_ to!" Her eyes shot to the right, and she was silent for a second. "Y'know, come to think of it, it would've been more ironic if I wrote that note to my dad... She probably wouldn't have appreciated anything I gave her anyway, it's not like there was anything I had that she didn't... Except, maybe, a book of holy text?" She mused, before shaking her head to clear that thought. "It doesn't matter... After all, I stopped believing God that day. My dad and I were going out to settle a conflict with his brother, though it was truly a conflict that shouldn't have involved my dad... It should've been just me and my paternal uncle." She picked up the pistol, nostalgically fiddling with the trigger. She had the barrel pointed under her chin as she clicked off the safety.

I came to try and take the gun from her, but she moved away. "We meet at the town square. 5:15 A.M. I brace myself to die." She aimed at a picture, which showed a man, who looked a lot like her. "Count 10 paces and shoot for the heart..." She had a silencer on her pistol and it was only a blank. Clever girl. "I came home without a scratch that morning, but not before I made up with my uncle through many tears, screaming, and crumpling to the ground." "So wait, who died?" I asked. She pointed to the photo. "He stepped in the crossfire and was facing me." She shuddered. "I swear he was smiling when I shot him right under his collarbone... Straight through the rib cage, tearing up his heart..." Her lip was quivering. "He also sustained a bullet to the back from his brother. It grazed the spinal cord and tore into his right lung. If it hadn't, he would've been paralyzed from chest down, but at least he would've been alive." She picked up the Manila folder. "This is a copy of his autopsy report. I asked specifically to know which bullet killed him..." She opened the folder and handed it to me. "Take a look."

I read aloud what the report said. "Cause of death: A bullet that entered the chest and punctured the heart." I looked up at her. "Yes, JD. I murdered my own father." She said, picking up the pistol again. "But now, I plan on setting things right." She placed a single bullet into the gun. "This gun isn't the one I used to kill him. No, Homeland Security has _that one_  in their evidence locker. Y'know, I should've been arrested... But as a way of trying to make amends with me, my uncle pleaded my case in court. He got me cleared of all charges, except for being put in the foster system and being completely separated from my true family, well what's left of it. Did I tell you he was a wealthy businessman?" She said. "He was nice enough to even leave me a little bit of inheritance in his will. I'm not going to need it though..."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "This is the gun that my uncle used. I snuck it out of his office before I had to leave. I knew that someday, I'd have to use it to kill who it was _supposed_ to kill." I frowned. "When?" She looked me in the eye, stubborn and determined and terrified. "Today. 5:20 in the morning. That's when he got in the way." I went and hugged her. "Damn it, (y/n)!" I groaned. "First Veronica, now you, too?" "What are you talking about?" "I went to try and get Veronica to join me, but I found her hanging but her bed sheets from the ceiling fan." She sighed. "I never really did like her anyway, I'll be completely honest." I smiled. "You don't think you can hold off on the whole _'suicide-to-set-the-timeline-straight'_ thing, do you?" She sighed. "Well, I guess one little pre-suicide mission _might_  not _hurt_..."


End file.
